


Discovery

by BonkKnockers



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonkKnockers/pseuds/BonkKnockers





	Discovery

“Captain, I believe another jump will cause adverse effects to the Tardigrade. I firmly advise you to reconsider,” Michael Burnham said as forcefully as she could without being insubordinate.

Captain Lorca’s eyes narrowed as he studied her.

“You think I care about that beast. We are at war Burnham.”

“I think you should care that the one element that keeps us jumping safely is slowly degrading. It is unsustainable. You don’t have to care about the means, but you should care about the result.”

“You presume to tell me what I should think?”

Michael swallowed the surge of exasperation within her. “No, Sir.”

He slowly circled around her. The blue lights of the control panels glinting off the gold trim on his uniform in the low light.

“You have more empathy for the creature than I would expect—for someone who graduated from the Vulcan Science Academy.”

“I don’t know why so many people forget that I am human,” she replied, continuing to stare ahead of her as he studied her.

“People seem to forget that I am human too.”

Her head snapped towards him.

“Do you know how I injured my eyes?” he asked.

She regained her composure and tightened her grip on her hands resting behind her back.

“I’ve heard stories.”

“Do you agree with what I did?”

She considered this. Logic told her his crew would have died anyway, that he spared them that suffering. Her human soul screamed at her that he should have done more.

“Yes.”

“Liar,” he murmured.

“You made a difficult choice. You did what you thought was best. I suppose in that way we are alike,” she said.

“Indeed. And now we both must suffer for it.”

“It would seem so,” she replied.

He halted in front of her and stared down at her face.

She ventured a quick glance up into his shadowed eyes but immediately regretted it. He scared her. It wasn’t what he’d done, or what he was going to do. It wasn’t his single-minded devotion to destroying the Klingons or succeeding with the Spore Hub Drive. No, she was scared of the way he was looking at her right now, and her body’s response to that look.

“You’ve already exceeded my expectations,” he said softly, barely above a whisper.

“Why didn’t you send me back on the prison transport?”

The question had been eating away at her. At first, she’d just thought what everyone thought; that Gabriel Lorca would use any means necessary to win this war, even a convict. But now she wasn’t so certain.

“Perhaps I saw in you a kindred spirit. Someone who thought they were doing what was right to save the people they cared about. There but for the grace of God go I?”

“You don’t think I committed mutiny?”

He chuckled. “I know you committed mutiny. I just can’t say for certain that I would have done differently.”

He’d caught her off guard. She hadn’t been expecting an answer like that.

“Are you lonely Michael Burnham?”

Or a question like that.

“Unlike humans, Vulcan’s are taught that solitude should be embraced instead of feared.”

“But as you said, you are not Vulcan. I imagine the life of a mutineer to be rather… isolated.”

“As is the life of a captain. A position I nearly achieved,” she responded, her right eyebrow quirking upwards. One of the last vestiges of her Vulcan upbringing that she’d all but lost.

“But no man is an island.”

“Are you lonely, Captain?” she asked in return.

“I hadn’t thought I was. I was resigned to my solitude, however self-imposed it may be, until—” he paused for a moment. His gaze narrowing in on her eyes, his own danced back and forth as he studied every millimeter of her ebony pupils.

“Until?” she whispered back.

His lips fell to hers before she even had a chance to draw her next breath.

It was what she had wanted. What she’d been waiting for.

Captain Lorca’s arms swept around her back and pulled her tightly against him.

His lips tasted sweet, like the fortune cookies he was so fond of, and she ate him up. It had been so long—years, in fact—since she’d been intimate with someone. She’d never needed the touch of another human more.

“You. You,” he murmured against her mouth. “Until you.”

Her fingers were at top of his uniform, pulling down the zipper, tearing off his jacket.

The calm pinging of the equipment echoed around the chamber, the only other sound their heavy breathing and the hurried rustle of uniforms hitting the deck.

“Michael,” he moaned as his long fingers traced the firm, generous curve of her backside.

His grip tightened on her flesh, sending shivers throughout her body.

“Captain!”

“Gabriel,” he corrected.

She pushed him back against his desk and he fell across it. His muscular torso, now free from the confines of his clothing, was lean and covered in a fine layer of jet black hair. She saw that his erection pushed against the front of his trousers.

With swift, efficient movements, she removed the rest of her clothing. The tight black tank top under her jacket, the snug blue pants of her uniform.

And then she climbed on top of him.

He pulled her head down to his and kissed her—kissed her like he needed her for survival. Perhaps he did. It almost felt that way for her.

He was under her, and in her, and around her. She sensed all of him. She felt that deep, empty pit, formed in her soul the day the Shenzhou was destroyed, begin to fill up.

Michael reached down and freed the length of him, exposing his sensitive skin to the cool, artificial air. His back arched with a fierce groan.

Without preamble she slipped down over him. She knew her body was ready. She’d felt on edge, aware, aroused since he’d first summoned her to his ready room.

Lorca was bigger than she’d imagined, not that she really had imagined anything. What was happening right now was so unexpected that she would have previously classed it as highly improbable. On par with a Vulcan smile or the Klingons suddenly surrendering.

“God, Michael,” he murmured through clenched teeth. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he didn’t or couldn’t finish his thought. She wondered what he might have said.

He slid in and out of her easily, and it felt indescribable, as if their coming together was predestined.

She felt her arousal begin to tighten and coil inside of her. Like a snake getting ready to strike.

The Captain—no, Gabriel—gripped her hips, rising up to meet her and she rocked back and forth over top of him. His breathing came in short, sharp gasps as he drew closer to release.

Without a thought, she suddenly felt that inexorable wave wash over her. Saturating her with warmth and the sensations of neurochemicals flooding her body.

She couldn’t stop the moans of pleasure from escaping her body. Such a strange sound to her ears that she almost didn’t recognize the noise as coming from herself. She felt out of her own body, removed, floating.

Gabriel’s pace quickened as her inner muscles tightened and pulled at him. A sheen of sweat rose on his brow, and as she studied him, a vein rose to the surface of his temple. His mouth and brow contorted in extreme focus.

He jerked up, once, twice, and then a long, low growl escaped him as he came in her. He shook, she shook, the table shook as the release was torn from him. She felt him pulsing inside of her and the movement filled her with another flood of chemicals. Oxytocin and dopamine, to name a few.

She collapsed on top of him and he held her tight, kissing the top of her head, rubbing his clean-shaven cheek against her curly hair.

The moment was short, necessary, but quickly gone.

She climbed down off of him and hastily donned her uniform. He pulled his pants back up and sat up, watching her, but made no move to dress as well.

“I need to get back to work,” she said zipping up her dark blue jacket.

“Find me a solution. We need to figure this out.”

“Yes, Captain.”

His face was a mask once more. Cold and hard.

“I’ll kill that thing if I have to. This is war, Burnham.”

She frowned, wanting to tell him she thought he was wrong, but the walls between them were back up.

“Yes, Sir.”

She paused by the door, chin up, back straight. Her hands behind her back as she waited to be dismissed.

Lorca stood and strode barefoot towards her.

“May I leave?” she asked.

Hesitantly his hand rose to her face.

“Michael,” he murmured.

“Yes?” she replied, trying to maintain her composure.

“I know that you may wish to pretend this didn’t happen. I understand. But it—it meant something to me.”

A breath she didn’t know she’d been holding escaped her and she felt tears well up in her eyes, but she blinked them away.

He kissed her forehead softly, and then the tip of her nose, and then her lips.

“Thank you, Michael Burnham,” he whispered.

She nodded, a lump in her throat making it hard to speak.

He wiped away the one sparkling tear that managed to escape her eye.

“You are welcome, Captain—Gabriel.”

He kissed her once more. This time firmly, earnestly. As if it would have to last them until some unknown time in the future, perhaps the rest of their short lives if the Klingons had their way.

She pulled away, unable to take any more without feeling like she was falling down the rabbit hole again.

“Goodbye,” she whispered.

He nodded and she didn’t look back as the doors slid closed behind her.


End file.
